


it’s just like falling snow, i am above you and i love you

by Purpleonionofsex



Series: The Awesome Demons 'verse [2]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexual Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Bisexual Jaskier | Dandelion, Canonical Character Death, Established Relationship, Infertility, Kid Fic, M/M, Past Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-02-22 22:15:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23734576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purpleonionofsex/pseuds/Purpleonionofsex
Summary: “We need to talk,” Yennefer says as she opens the office door with a crash, interrupting their kiss and making Jaskier jump on Geralt’s lap. Geralt groans, tightening his grip on Jaskier’s hips, annoyed at being interrupted. “I want a baby,” she says seriously. Geralt... was not expecting this.Or the one where Yennefer wants to make a baby with Geralt and Jaskier, and everything does not go according to plan, but there is a happy ending for all.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: The Awesome Demons 'verse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1709587
Comments: 8
Kudos: 183





	it’s just like falling snow, i am above you and i love you

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome back! Apparently I loved my boys so much in this universe, I had to write a sequel. A few notes: 1. I recommand reading the first part if you want it to make sense, but I guess you don't have to. 2. English is not my first language and this is unbetaed, so I apologise for any mistake. 3. The canon character death tag does not concern any of the main character, so don't worry about that, this fic is mainly fluff. Enjoy!

“We need to talk,” Yennefer says as she opens the office door with a crash, interrupting their kiss and making Jaskier jump on Geralt’s lap. Geralt groans, tightening his grip on Jaskier’s hips, annoyed at being interrupted.

“Oh please, you’ve been together for five years, you can keep it in your pants for a few minutes,” she complains and Jaskier smiles at him apologetically. He places a quick kiss on Geralt’s lip and turns around, still settled on his lap and rubbing his arse against Geralt’s half hard cock. The prick.

“To what do we owe the pleasure,” Jaskier says with a saccharine tone, leaning with his elbows on the desk. Those two only talk through insults and banter, but Geralt learnt quickly that it was their way of showing affection. A weird way, granted, but still.

“I have to talk to you about something serious,” Yennefer says, sitting down in front of them, and Jaskier tenses in Geralt’s arms. Yennefer is rarely serious, and she sounds unsure, which is even rarer.

“Are you alright?” Jaskier asks immediately, all mockery leaving his voice, and Geralt is relieved to have him in his life. It’s easier when Jaskier is here to help him navigate social interaction and stressful times. If Yen is about to tell them something actually serious, he will need him to get through this.

“Why, are you worried about me?” Yennefer asks with a smirk. “I thought you couldn’t wait for me to die so you could inherit my record collection,” she teases, and Jaskier relaxes in Geralt’s arms. If she is joking, it can’t be that bad.

“Please, I know Geralt has a key to your place, I just need you to be busy elsewhere to get them whenever I want,” he says with a grin, and Geralt buries his nose in Jaskier’s nape. He is such a little shit, and Geralt loves him so much.

There is a brief silence, Yennefer biting her bright red lips, before she finally seems to steel herself and looks straight at Geralt. “I want a baby,” she says seriously.

Geralt... was not expecting this. Really not. Which is why he answers without thinking. “Ok, how will you get one?” He regrets saying it as soon as he sees the mirth in Yennefer’s eyes and smile.

“Why, Geralt, do you need me to explain the birds and the bees to you?” she teases, and he groans in embarrassment, trying to disappear behind Jaskier.

“Oh, don’t worry, he perfectly knows how to use his little bird,” Jaskier adds and Geralt is tempted to just push him off his lap. He groans.

“Seriously though, you were very adamant you didn’t want children while we were together, what changed?” Geralt asks in hope of stopping them from mocking him. It works, as Yennefer’s smile disappears from her face and she becomes serious again.

“I don’t know,” she answers honestly, “but I’ve been thinking about it for a while and my mind is made up. I really want a child, but well...To be honest, I am a bit scared of doing it totally alone,” she admits.

Yennefer? Scared? Geralt feels like he is in the Twilight Zone.

“So, I thought the best course of action for me would be if you accepted to be the biological dad, Geralt. And to help me raise them, both of you, if that’s something you would want. What I mean is, when it comes down to it, there is no one else I would want as dads for my kid,” she concludes, looking at both of them with uncertainty and determination.

Geralt is gobsmacked. Him? A dad? What?

“Of course you need to think and talk about it, the both of you. You don’t have to answer right away!” she adds, and Jaskier is finally the one finding words to answer.

“So, just to be clear, this would be _our_ child, not just yours?” he asks.

“Yes,” Yennefer answers gravely. “We would be co-parents, all three of us.”

Jaskier hums before turning slightly to watch Geralt’s face. “Love? Do you have any question?” he asks, and Geralt shakes his head to indicate no. This is all clear, but quite a lot. He just cannot compute everything right now. “We will talk about it and let you know,” Jaskier says to Yennefer with a gentle tone, probably the gentler Geralt has ever heard him use with her. “Thank you for trusting us with this,” he adds, and it seems to ease Yen’s worry as she smiles softly at them.

“Thank you for considering it and not shutting me down immediately,” she says as she is standing up. Jaskier waves at her as she leaves and Geralt is still speechless.

Jaskier gets up from Geralt’s lap and turns around, half sitting on the desk to look at him. “Are you okay?” he asks kindly.

“Yeah,” Geralt finally croaks, raising his eyes to meet Jaskier’s. “I’m just a bit stunned. I was really not expecting that,” he muses.

“I bet,” Jaskier whispers softly. There is silence for a few minutes, both lost in thoughts.

“Do you want a child?” Geralt finally asks Jaskier. Among everything going through his head, this is one starting point. The topic never came up between them and Geralt never really thought about it. Jaskier has been off months at a time touring with his band and they have been living in Geralt’s trailer in the meantime. This is definitely no way of life for a child.

“I don’t know, maybe?” he says, fiddling nervously with his hands. “I never really thought about it, I’m not even 30 yet, and I assumed it would be up to my partner.” He snorts. “I never thought it would be up to my partner’s ex.”

Geralt hums, taking Jaskier’s hand to hold it and stop him from fidgeting.

“Do _you_ want a child?” Jaskier asks, and that’s the question, isn’t it?

“I... don’t know,” he answers. “Yen always said she didn’t want any, and I was okay with it. Then with you, well, we’re both men, so it seemed more complicated? It always felt like a discussion for later.”

Jaskier smiles at him, squeezing his hand. “It looks like later is now, then.”

Geralt hums. “Well, it has been five years already.”

“It has, hasn’t it?” Jaskier says with awe. “It feels like yesterday we were rehearsing in your garage!”

Geralt snorts. “Well, we were rehearsing something else in there yesterday.”

“Ha ha, my wolf’s got jokes,” Jaskier says, flicking Geralt’s forehead with his free hand.

“If we do this,” Geralt says, feeling odd even considering this, “our life would need to change in a lot of ways.”

“Well, you couldn’t keep living in a trailer, that’s for sure,” Jaskier teases with a smile.

“And you couldn’t keep living in tour buses,” Geralt grimaces. He doesn’t want it to prevent Jaskier from living his dream. Of course, he could still tour while Geralt and Yen take care of the child, but he knows Jaskier. If he has a kid, he will want to be here, to raise them properly every day.

“I wanted to talk to you about that, actually.” Jaskier says, sighing softly. “You know Tom just had a baby, yeah? Well I think he is getting ready to tell us he wants to quit the band. And I get it, like you just said, touring is not the best life with a child.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt croaks, feeling dread settle in his stomach, “are you saying you want to break up your band?” Geralt knows Jaskier’s band is his whole life, his raison d’être for the last few years, especially since he graduated and dedicated his whole life to it. And it worked, they got a fanbase big enough to allow them to tour with sold out venues. It’s far from the Top 40 and airing on radios, but it’s everything Jaskier has always wanted, and Geralt can’t bear the thought of him letting it all down now.

“Maybe? I think it’s time,” he sighs.

“But your dream,” Geralt can’t help saying, his heart squeezing.

“Oh, Geralt,” Jaskier says while tugging him up, kissing him briefly. “I have been living my dream for the last four years, but now I just think my dream has changed? I miss you too much when I don’t see you, I’m a bit tired of living off of ten outfits because that’s all I can carry in one suitcase and I miss having a real flat with a bedroom, a living room and toilets I can get to in the middle of the night without freezing my ass off crossing the yard. I’m not saying I want to stop playing music, there are a lot of ways for me to keep doing that without being in a band, but I just think this might be the nudge I needed to confirm my decision? Having a child with you might just be my next adventure.”

Geralt gulps. Sometimes, it still astonishes him that Jaskier would want to spend his life with him, of all people.

“If that’s something you’d want,” Geralt says, cupping Jaskier’s face, “then I’d do it. But I need you to be sure, because I want you to be happy.”

“And what about you?” Jaskier frowns. “Would that make _you_ happy? Because you can’t do this just to please me or Yen. You need to want it too.”

Geralt tries to think about it. Does he want it? He’s not sure, he needs more time to think about it. But deep down, if he is honest, this is not about wanting it, but about fearing it. He never had parents, although Vesemir took care of him like a dad for a few years. What if he sucks at it? What if he ruins this child’s life with his numerous flaws? Going through with this without role model is a leap of faith Geralt is not sure he is ready to make. “What if I’m a shitty dad?” he finally voices, looking at his feet.

“Well, the fact that you worry about it means you’re probably going to be a good one,” Jaskier says, nudging him to make him look up. “And you wouldn’t be alone, Yen and I would be right along with you. The three of us, we’re a force to be reckoned with,” he jokes, but it actually helps Geralt. If Jaskier is here with him, it should be alright.

“Let’s keep thinking about it and sleep on it, okay?” Jaskier adds, kissing him. “It’s a big decision and there is no rush. But please, talk to me if you have any doubt. If we do this, we need to be united.”

Geralt nods, tugging Jaskier into a hug. As his lover would say: what a day.

*o*o*o*o*

They think about it for a week before letting Yennefer know they are okay with it. Geralt is not sure he has ever seen her this elated. She even hugged Jaskier, an act antagonistic to their usual behaviour.

They hash out the details and from then on it goes so fast Geralt feels lightheaded. Three days later, Yen shows up with a recipient, asking Geralt to come in it right away because she is ovulating. One moment he is working on a car in the garage with Jaskier playing the guitar next to him, and the next he is trying to jack off in his trailer while his lover and his ex are waiting outside. This is so surrealistic he can’t even get hard properly.

He tries watching porn on his phone, but it’s not doing it for him. It’s finally Jaskier who has to join him ten minutes later and suck him off.

The second time is slightly easier.

By the fourth time, it’s becoming nearly normal.

By the sixth time, Yen is becoming anxious of it not working and stressing all of them out. She is starting to talk about getting fertility tests done, and Jaskier and Geralt are trying to reassure her, but to no avail.

It becomes an obsession for her. She can’t seem to talk about anything else, and Geralt tries to be supportive, but he’s very happy not to live with her. He definitely would have already put a stop to everything by now if not for Jaskier. The more Yen is losing hope and getting depressed, the more Jaskier makes up for it by being excited and optimistic. His bandmates and him agreed that they weren’t breaking up, just taking a break from touring for the foreseeable future, and he takes up this opportunity to write new songs. He is a sunshine in this whole mess.

The ninth month of trying is the one that breaks Yen. She can’t stop saying that they would already be parents if it had worked the first time. Unbeknownst to them, she finally goes to a doctor and comes back with the news she was dreading. She calls Geralt crying, something he thought he would never hear, taking a few minutes to get the word out. Infertile.

It stirs a lot of emotions in Geralt. He feels hollow, like part of the world is crumbling down. But he also feels relief, because it was a lot of pressure and he wasn’t sure he could shoulder it for long. Of course he also feels sad, mourning this future they had dreamt and talked about for months, but finally he feels dread, because he needs to tell Jaskier. He takes a minute to feel it all, to let it wash over him and knots his guts, making him feel lightheaded and hopeless. Finally, he takes a deep breath and gets up. He goes to join Jaskier reading in the trailer.

“Hey, love!” Jaskier greets him with a big smile when he enters, and Geralt feels his heart constrict.

“Hey,” he croaks. Jaskier immediately sees something is wrong because he closes his book and sits up properly on the bed.

“What’s wrong?”

Geralt sits on the bed next to him and Jaskier immediately comes closer, taking his hand and waiting for Geralt to find the words to answer him.

“Yen called,” he finally whispers. “She went to get some tests done, it’s... not good.”

“Oh?” Jaskier says softly, still watching Geralt. Fuck, the words are hard to find.

“She’s infertile, Jaskier,” he finally gets out despite the lump in his throat. He closes his eyes, scared to see the disappointment on Jaskier’s face, but the surprise of his answer makes him open them back.

“Ok.”

“Ok?” Geralt repeats, surprised and confused.

“Yeah, ok, so what’s the next step? Surrogacy? Adoption? There is not only one way to get a child, you grew up in homes, you should know that Geralt.” Jaskier says like it’s obvious. And maybe it is.

“I- We didn’t talk about it, Yen just called me, she was crying, I didn’t-“ Geralt cuts himself off, not sure what to say. Yen talked about it in such a way, Geralt assumed it was just the end of this. But of course Jaskier would be optimistic and try to find a solution. It’s like nothing can ever stop him, not even Geralt and Yen’s tendency to be defeatist.

“Of course, she must be devasted,” Jaskier says with sorrow, biting his lips. “Well, we can’t leave her alone tonight,” he says determinedly, suddenly getting up. “Call her back, tell her we’re coming over with plenty of alcohol. I know you’re both emotionally constipated people, but we need to talk about it some more,” he adds, pointing a finger at Geralt like he was accusing him of something.

Geralt obeys with a sigh, because apparently his type is bossy people who won’t let him wallow in his misery in peace.

*o*o*o*o*

This night is a mess. They all end up drunk before nine, Jaskier making up silly songs to make Yen laughs between bouts of crying and serious conversation about the future. In the morning, Geralt wakes up with his head pounding and a crick in his neck. He is seated on the sofa, Yen’s head on his shoulder and Jaskier’s on his lap, both still asleep. One of Yen’s hand is tangled into Jaskier’s hair, a vague memory of her petting him like a cat coming back to Geralt’s mind. His body feels like it got ran over by a train, but for a brief moment, Geralt’s mind is happy and at peace, the two persons he loves most in the world being safe right there.

Basking in the moment, his gaze lands on Yennefer’s scar on her wrist and his mood sours. Jaskier was right about coming here yesterday. It’s been years, it happened before Geralt even met her, but Yen tried to take her life once and even if she is stronger now and out of the abusive home leading her to this, she has been in a really rough patch recently. If Geralt had been alone, he probably would have assumed she needed space. Now it’s obvious she needed support.

He is snapped out of his thoughts by a sharp pain in his neck when Yen moves and he grunts. He really needs to get up, pee and have coffee. He is not sure how to go about the first step, seeing how he has two full grown adults draped over him, but he’ll manage.

*o*o*o*o*

They decide to take a few more days to think about what’s next. Geralt feels a lot lighter than he thought he would after Yen’s phone call and he goes back to work relaxed. Jaskier’s thirstiest birthday is coming up and Geralt is thinking about throwing him a party when the garage’s phone rings.

“Hello?” he answers curtly, thinking about how Jaskier would roll his eyes at him exasperatedly if he was here. He always says Geralt should be more forthcoming on the phone and say stuff like _Hello, Geralt Rivia speaking, how may I help you?_ Ridiculous.

“Hello, my name is Yurga Sodden, may I talk to Geralt Rivia please?” says the voice on the phone, and Geralt can just tell this is not a client.

“Speaking.”

“Oh, good day sir, I am calling you in my capacity as solicitor regarding a will you are an executor of. First, I wanted to extend my sincere condolences as I have to inform you of the death of Mrs Calanthe Riannon-Tuirseach and her husband, M. Eist Riannon-Tuirseach, in terrible circumstances recently. I would be happy to answer any question you might have, but we will need to meet at my office to settle everything. Of course, you can take your time to process this terrible information, but the sooner would be the better, especially for the sake of miss Cirilla Riannon,” the man says, leaving Geralt very confused.

“What?” he answers, not sure he is understanding what’s happening here. There were a lot of words in a very pompous tone. Calanthe and Eist are dead?

“Sorry, can you hear me? I was saying, I have the regret to inform you–”

“No, no, I heard you,” Geralt grunts, “but why do you need _me_ to come to your office?”

“Well, Mrs Riannon-Tuirseach listed you as a beneficiary in her will,” the man clarified. “I am sorry, didn’t she tell you? I really thought she might have, seeing as she also listed you as legal guardian of her granddaughter, miss Cirilla Riannon.”

“She WHAT?” Geralt exclaimed, suddenly standing up and feeling once again as if someone was turning his world upside down.

*o*o*o*o*

If Geralt had to describe his relationship with Calanthe, he would use the term friendly acquaintance. Definitely _not_ one close enough to entrust her granddaughter’s guardianship to him. He met her roughly fifteen years ago when he saved her from a bike crash. He was on the motorway when he saw her lose control of her motorbike and go straight into the barrier. He immediately stopped to help her and call for help. He went with her to the hospital and left his contact details. She came by the garage a few days later to thank him. It turned out she was part of a motorcycle club called The Lions of Cintra and her bike had been tampered with by someone.

At freshly 22, Geralt has to admit he found her cool then. She decided then that she would only trust Geralt to repair her motorbike. She even tried to recruit him at the time, but Vesemir was in the process of retiring and leaving the shop to Geralt, so he made a sensible choice and refused.

She kept coming back over the years, chatting to him around a beer every time she needed her bike fixed. She told him about marrying Eist after years of courtship, about Pavetta marrying Dunny that she hated, about how her daughter died in childbirth and Dunny died too a few months later. He heard about Ciri, saw the harsh face of this stern woman soften when she talked about her. He had never seen her himself, but if he was counting correctly, she should be around 6 or 7 now.

If he was honest, her death was sad, but not something he would mull over for months. As he was saying, they were not friends. Sure, she trusted him with her motorbike, which was probably the most valuable thing in her life apart from her family, but it was an object, not a human being. This was crazy.

“Calanthe Riannon... I feel like I’ve heard that name somewhere,” Jaskier says from where he is sprawled haphazardly on a chair in the trailer. He keeps saying being queer prevents him from ‘sitting straight’ in chairs. Geralt just thinks it means he will end up breaking his neck one day.

“She was a regular, you might have seen her in the shop,” Geralt shrugs, sipping his coffee.

“No, no, it was from before...”

Geralt is happy to let him think about it while he takes a moment to look at him. The setting sun is giving auburn reflections to his hair and he thinks, not for the first time, that he really lucked out finding such a beautiful man to call his own.

“OH I KNOW!” Jaskier suddenly shouts, nearly falling from his chair and making Geralt flinch in surprise. “The wedding! Her daughter was named Pavetta, right? She married really young?”

“Yes,” Geralt answers, surprised, “but how do you know that?”

“I was there!” he continues excitedly. “Calanthe hired my band to play at the wedding. Well, not my current band, the previous one where we only did covers. The one where I was just a guitarist because fucking Valdo Marx kept telling me my singing voice was like a pie with no filling. Filthy fucker,” Jaskier swears, his excitement souring at the memory of his ex. Sometimes, Geralt is happy magic and genies are not a thing, because he is sure Jaskier’s first wish would be for Valdo to drop dead.

“I was there too,” Geralt says, mainly to stop Jaskier from going on another rant about his evil ex, but also because he is a bit surprised by the revelation.

“Wait, really?” Jaskier grins. “We could have met there! Well, I was still with Valdo at the time, but I would have definitely cheated on him with you. Would have served him right!” he says, raising his fist and looking up like he thinks he is some vengeful character in a movie.

“Jaskier,” Geralt sighs. He is all too aware of all the ways Valdo ruined Jaskier’s life when they were together. The man was a narcissistic abusive arsehole and Geralt would happily punch him if he met him, but this is definitively not today’s subject.

“Yeah, sorry. Man, that was a weird wedding. I remember Calanthe arriving on her motorbike with the whole gang. Pavetta was looking like a princess in her big fluffy white dress and here was her mother in black leather and boots. She got drunk and started saying the groom was a nobody and it was just a shotgun wedding because he knocked up her daughter. No offense, but she was kinda mean. I thought the newly-weds looked lovely together.”

Geralt sighs. Yeah, this wedding had been a shitshow. “Pavetta and her were too different, they never really got on. But Pavetta and Dunny were really in love, as far as I could tell. I think Calanthe always hoped Pavetta would marry a biker, not some council worker.” She probably hoped she would end up with someone more like Geralt, actually.

“Yeah, family can be a pain in the arse sometimes,” Jaskier muses. “So, you were telling me she died and left you stuff in her will?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know what exactly, I have to go meet the solicitor in charge. Although it’s not just ‘stuff’...” he adds, still feeling confused by his life these last few months. This is just a fucking emotional roller coaster.

“Hm?”

“Apparently...” Geralt pauses, sighs. Fuck. “Apparently she also appointed me as legal guardian for her granddaughter.”

Jaskier splutters, looking at him with eyes like saucers. “Excuse me, what? Granddaughter? Do you mean Pavetta’s daughter?”

“Yes,” Geralt confirms succinctly.

“But what about Pavetta and Dunny? Or Calanthe’s husband?”

Geralt grimaces. “They all died. Eist died at the same time as Calanthe apparently, so I assume it must have been an accident of some sort. Pavetta died when she gave birth to Cirilla and Dunny committed suicide a few months later. I think losing Pavetta, taking care of a new born and having Calanthe telling him he was worthless every day became too much for him.”

Geralt can see the sorrow setting on Jaskier’s face. “Poor child,” his lover mutters. He seems to think for a few moments about all the terrible events that led Ciri to be alone today, and Geralt can admit that even his own sad story doesn’t sound as fucked up as what Ciri had endured before she was even 10. But at least Ciri’s mum didn’t choose to give her up.

“But Geralt,” Jaskier says suddenly, some colours coming back to his face as he takes Geralt’s hand in his, “they want to give you a child? How crazy is that! After everything these past few months! It’s like fate, or destiny, or something!”

Geralt has always hated the idea of destiny, but he has to admit it sounds nearly too neat to be true.

*o*o*o*o*

It turns out Calanthe and Eist were murdered and Cirilla has been placed in protective custody for the duration of the investigation. It’s a new blow Geralt was not expecting, especially as apparently Calanthe failed to mention she was the _leader_ of The Lions of Cintra. The solicitor discloses that it’s probably a dispute between clubs that went awry, and Geralt wouldn’t be surprised. He would also happily refuse all the money now, seeing as it’s probably coming from not so legal activities, but it’s actually all going on an account for Ciri. For him, Calanthe left her house and everything in it, including both her motorbikes and her car, which is already a lot from someone he barely knew.

He comes out of the solicitor’s office feeling a bit dazed. The police will come to interrogate him to make sure he has nothing to do with Calanthe’s murder, he has to meet with a social worker about Cirilla and he has to pay an inheritance tax on the house if he wants to keep it. Why is it that every time life tries to give him something, it has to be so bloody complicated? Except Jaskier. Jaskier is surprisingly easy to love and live with.

“So? How did it go? Have you called Yen?” Jaskier asks when he meets him in the lobby. Geralt just grunts and gets a fag out of the pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He doesn’t smoke often, that would be stupid while working in a garage, but it’s still something that helps occasionally when he has to think. He gets out, Jaskier on his heels, and lights it. The first drag feels liberating.

“It went fine and it’s too early to call her yet,” he finally answers after blowing the smoke. “I don’t want to give her any false hope.”

“Why, didn’t you just sign the papers to get custody?” Jaskier asks, confused.

“Yes, but it turns out Eist and Calanthe were murdered and there is an ongoing investigation. Let’s face it Jaskier, I have a criminal record from my youth, I’m scary-looking and I inherited from Calanthe. If the police are not stupid, I’m a suspect. Plus, if they learn we’ve been trying for a child for months, Cirilla will be seen as motive. Believe me, they won’t hand her over easily.”

Jaskier’s eyes open wide before he sighs angrily. “Fuck, I hate that you make sense right now!” he says as he stomps his foot in frustration. Geralt hums and takes a long drag of his cigarette. “Anyway, we haven’t left each other’s side for weeks, that means you have an alibi, no? Do you know when they died?”

“Not really, the police should clarify that.” Geralt won’t admit it to Jaskier, but he is worried. He’s not a big fan of the police and he’s just too good a candidate. “But it’s not the only problem. A social worker needs to come and see where I live, if it’s suited for Ciri.”

“Oh fuck,” Jaskier exhales. “Geralt, you live in a trailer!”

“Do I? Oh, thanks for telling me, I didn’t know that,” he says dryly. He takes a last drag and stubs his cigarette out before throwing it in a bin. “I was hoping that offering to live at Calanthe’s old house would play in my favour. It might also help Ciri to stay in a familiar place. What do you think?”

Geralt is barely done speaking that Jaskier is kissing him, nearly knocking him down. But Geralt is used to these outbursts, so he is quick to close his arms around his lover and kiss him back.

“I think it’s a great idea and it’s very sexy to see you’ve thought about it while I’m here just freaking out,” he says a few inches from Geralt’s mouth.

“You don’t look like you’re freaking out.”

“Oh, believe me, my mind is all over the place.” He steps back, running his hand through his hair. “We also need a car. And a car seat, 7-years-old still need car seats, right? Should I be there for the appointment? What if the social worker is homophobic? Oh, maybe you can pretend to still live with Yen!”

Geralt frowns and grabs Jaskier’s wrist, pulling him into a hug to shut him up. “You’re going to be there and I’m not lying to the social worker about us. I love you and I have to reason to hide that.”

Geralt can feel Jaskier mellowing out in his arms, one of his lover’s hand sliding in his back pocket while the other grabs a fistful of his hair to kiss him softly. Geralt is not the type of person who says ‘I love you’ a lot, but Jaskier is the kind of person who likes to hear it often, so he tries to be better at it. They kiss tenderly for a few seconds, then Jaskier squeezes his butt once and steps back.

“Come on, let’s finish this conversation at home,” he says while putting his helmet on and straddling Roach. Geralt does the same and starts the engine of his motorbike, feeling Jaskier’s arms tight around him.

“Wanna go for a ride first?” he shouts before closing his helmet’s visor, and he feels Jaskier shrugs against his back. Riding Roach out of the city always helps Geralt to set his head straight. He makes the engine roar before finally driving out of the parking lot.

*o*o*o*o*

As it turns out, things go easier than expected. When the police summons him, he is all but ready to spend a few days being interrogated in the station, but as it happens, the murder took place the night Jaskier and Geralt went to Yennefer’s to drink, and it’s easy to prove it with Jaskier’s Instagram picture of Geralt sleeping with a bottle of Vodka still in hand and the assurance that both his friends would concur with his alibi. Geralt never thought he would be grateful for Jaskier’s overuse of social media, and yet here he is. Moreover, it seems like some dude from a rival motorcycle club, The Nilfgaardian, has been bragging about this murder, so the case might be open-and-shut with no more problem for Geralt. He might even actually get to bring Ciri home with him _next week_. This is an unexpected good news, but he won’t be looking a gift horse in the mouse.

The meeting with the social worker also goes well. She is, fortunately, not homophobic and ends up charmed by Jaskier rather quickly. This is a bit terrifying, how Jaskier can wrap someone around his little finger in no time if he puts his mind to it. But damn if it isn’t useful.

In the end, all that’s left to do is to tell Yen. Because as crazy as it might sound, this is happening. Not the way they expected, not with a baby or a child that would be totally theirs, but still a child that needs a family nonetheless. And Jaskier, Yen and himself are going to be that family.

“Oh, look who stopped ignoring me,” Yennefer snaps as she opens the door to her flat, leaning on the door frame and folding her arms so Geralt can’t get in. She looks a bit pissed, but then she has only two main moods: angry and mocking. Well, three if you count horny, but Geralt is not privy to it anymore.

“I wasn’t ignoring you,” he grunts, not having expected Yennefer to have picked up on it. “I was just busy.”

“Yeah, that’s what Jaskier told me, because I had to stoop so low as to call _him_ ,” she says while grimacing, as if Geralt didn’t know they called each other to gossip at least once a week. “So, what could you have been so busy with that you couldn’t even text me back for three whole days?”

“You know I don’t like texting,” he says, trying to evade the question, at least until they are seated and not talking in a corridor where any neighbour could hear what’s happening.

“Please, I know you have an ongoing sext thing going on with your beau. You grandpa should be used to typing on a digital screen by now.”

At that, Geralt can feel himself blush. “Gosh, why would he tell you that?”

“Oh better,” she says with mirth, a dangerous glint in her eyes, “he showed me some of them. You’re getting more creative as you age, my dear.”

Yennefer is clearly having fun making him squirm and Geralt knows his face is crimson, but at least her mood is verging more toward mocking than angry now.

“You two have such a weird relationship,” he grunts. Jaskier had actually asked him if he could show some of their personal messages to a friend of his a few months back, and Geralt hadn’t really thought about it much nor wondered why. He just trusted Jaskier, but he didn’t expect this friend to be Yen. Then again, he shouldn’t be this surprised as he knows he is the object of half of their gossips.

“Come on, get in before you spontaneously combust on my doorstep,” Yennefer finally says, moving back to allow him to pass. “Do you want a coffee?”

He accepts and he waits for them to be both seated with their drink before finally speaking about the reason he is here. He is a bit nervous, and he regrets telling Jaskier to wait for him at home. Maybe he should have been there for this.

“Okay, so, you were right,” he finally manages to say, and Yen smirks.

“I usually am. About what?”

Geralt sighs, not commenting on Yen’s ever so present ego.

“I was avoiding you, in a way. Something happened and I needed to deal with it.” He pauses, looking at Yen, and her face immediately becomes serious.

“Oh God, is it Vesemir?” she asks, worried.

“No, no, Vesemir is fine!” Geralt immediately reassures her. “It’s, ah, do you remember Calanthe?”

“Yes, of course,” she nods. “You wouldn’t shut up about her daughter’s wedding she forced you to attend. What about her?”

“Well, she died,” Geralt says gravely.

“Oh, shit.”

“Yeah, and uh, I am to be the guardian of her granddaughter. She’s 7.”

There’s a pause and Geralt stares at his empty cup, afraid to look at Yen’s face.

“What?” she asks after a couple of seconds, obviously gobsmacked.

“Yeah, I’m going to pick her up next week. She also left me the house and everything,” he admits, feeling like maybe he should have sugar-coated it more while saying it, and he finally looks at her.

“Wow, just... wow!” Yennefer says, her face closing off and a weird tremor invading her voice. “That’s great, Geralt. A child surprise, after everything. That’s wonderful.”

“It is,” he agrees, not sure while he is still walking on eggshell around her. It’s why they couldn’t be together, really, her mood swings are a mystery to him, and she always ends up getting mad for reasons that escape him. “It’s actually a great news, so why do you sound like you’re... mad?” he asks, feeling confused.

“I’m not mad, I’m just–“ She stops, several emotions visibly raging inside her. “I mean, I’m happy for you, both of you, but I’m just fucking disappointed,” she croaks, her voice breaking as she talks. “I’m the one who’ve wanted this so bad for months and months, and one day someone just rings your fucking doorbell and gives you a child? What a fucking joke,” she spits, and Geralt is surprised by the venom in her voice.

“Yen, this isn’t about you. She just lost her family,” he says softly, trying to calm her, and she flinches. She obviously knows he is right, and she will regret her egoistical outburst soon enough. But he also knows that right now, her emotions are getting the better of her, and anything he says will turn against him one way or another. He has to try to get his message across, however. “And I understand why you are reacting like that, but I didn’t come here to gloat or undermine you. I came here to tell you that if you want, our initial plan doesn’t have to change. I mean, it’s not a baby and she already had parents, she will never be a hundred percent ours, but she can be in all the ways that matter. And if you don’t want that it’s okay, you can just be the cool aunt or something, but I would rather you be here to help us raise her as a parent, just like we planned.”

For once in his life, it seems like it was the right thing to say, because the fight seems to leave Yennefer suddenly, her shoulder relaxing and the fire in her eyes dying out.

“Really?” she finally asks with a small voice. “You want me to be her mom?”

Geralt nods. “I don’t know how comfortable she will be with the word ‘mom’, but basically, yes. Jaskier and I will be moving in Calanthe’s old house for the first few months, and we’d like for you to move in with us too, at least until Ciri is comfortable with us and we can think about more long-term solutions. The only reason I have been avoiding you and I didn’t talk to you about it sooner is because I didn’t want to lie to you or give you false hope. I never intended to sideline you in all this.”

“Okay,” she says, and a moment later she is in his arms, hugging him within an inch of his life while he gets a mouthful of her hair. Well, crisis averted.

*o*o*o*o*

The ride there is quiet. None of them know what to expect and in what state Ciri will be. She just lost her last family members and has been living with strangers for weeks, she must be devastated and confused. They tried talking about what they could expect, but they always end up with the worst scenario possible. They will just have to wait and see.

When they get there, Geralt takes far too long to park Calanthe’s car. First because he is nervous, but also because he hasn’t driven a car in years except for a test run around the garage. This is a bit embarrassing, but even Yen wouldn’t dare mocking him right now.

The three of them get out of the car and march toward the office they are expected in to get Ciri. This feels like walking into battle, their life about to change forever in a few seconds. Jaskier grabs his hand and squeeze, centring him. Geralt takes Yennefer’s, because they’re in this together. A last breath, and he has to release their hands to get in.

Behind the door, there is a little girl sitting in a chair in front of a desk, her feet barely touching the floor. She has long blond hair, so fair they are almost white, cascading down her back and piercing blue eyes staring right at them. There is a second where no one talks, the child and three adults just staring at each other, and then Jaskier steps forward and kneels down in front of Ciri.

“Hi, my name is Jaskier, nice to meet you,” he says with a smile, holding out his hand to shake hers. She doesn’t speak but she accepts Jaskier’s handshake, looking at him like she’s trying to decipher who he is. “You are Cirilla, right? And this is Geralt and Yennefer,” he adds, pointing at them in turn.

“Hi,” Geralt says then as Jaskier stands back up and steps back. He hesitates, wondering if he should offer to shake her hand too, but it feels a bit weird to him. She looks at him, her gaze still feeling like she is trying to figure something out, but this time she talks.

“Why do you smell like onion?” her little voice asks, and suddenly some of the tension dissipates as Jaskier snorts. Geralt just grunts, embarrassed.

“Ah, don’t worry, he usually smells like gasoline, but today he spent two hours stress cooking for you before we left,” Jaskier says with a smile. “He was afraid you would be hungry. He doesn’t do it often, but I promise he is a great cook.” He winks at Cirilla, and Geralt swears a smile is close to forming on her lips. Good.

Cirilla’s eyes then turn to Yennefer, and Geralt steps on the side so she can come closer.

“Hi,” Yennefer says, obviously trying to appear confident, but Geralt can see right through it. Her nervousness is clear to anyone who knows her. But when Ciri looks at her, there is something different in her eyes. Something slightly like awe.

“You’re very pretty,” Ciri says, and Geralt can immediately feel Yennefer preening and relaxing.

“Thank you, you are very pretty too,” Yen answers, and this time Ciri is smiling at her, her whole face lighting up.

“Good, now that the introduction are out of the way,” says the social worker behind the desk, making Geralt jumps as he had forgotten she was even here, “I just need you to sign one last paper M. Rivia, and you can be on your way.”

He nods, scribbling his name without even reading the paper, and then they are outside, the four of them. One new member in his family, if everything goes according to plan.

They head toward the car, and Geralt takes a minute to look at the girl. Ciri is not very talkative so far, but it might just be the novelty of it all. She doesn’t know any of them yet and she just lived through a trauma. But she is holding Yen’s hand and she appears to be less devastated than Geralt anticipated. She might still have a chance at a somewhat happy childhood, and not go straight to trying to be an adult, like Geralt did at nearly the same age. Jaskier is filling the silence with questions Ciri can just answer with a nod or a shake of her head, which helps dissolve the tension, but as they get to the car, Ciri suddenly stops walking, her hand slipping from Yennefer’s.

“This is grandma’s car,” she comments, and Geralt feels worry tying up his guts. He hopes she won’t have a problem with going back to the house and seeing all the memories of her previous life.

“Yes, we didn’t have a car, Yen and I usually ride motorbikes,” Geralt explains, “and your grandmother said I could have it in her will, so...”

There is an awkward silence, once again broken by Jaskier.

“Well, and I don’t have a car because I usually ride a regular bike, and I’ll have you know it’s much better for the environment than the monsters these two like to ride! Well, and I also don’t have a driving licence, but I’m sure you don’t either, so maybe we could take our bikes and go for a ride together, if you want!” he says enthusiastically to Ciri and just like that, the awkward moment is gone. She then easily accepts to get into the car as Jaskier starts reciting poetry about Geralt’s delicious lasagna waiting for them at home, and Geralt is once against very grateful for his boyfriend.

“Can I ask you something?” Ciri says after a few minutes in the car, cutting Jaskier off in the middle of a tangent nobody was really listening to anymore.

“Yes, of course,” Yennefer says from the backseat next to Ciri.

“Are you guys, like, a three persons couple? Because I know Geralt is the one who is supposed to take care of me, but I’m not sure who the two of you are,” she says seriously while looking between Jaskier and Yennefer. Geralt is happy he is driving and needs to keep his eyes on the road, because this is a question he doesn’t mind dodging. He risks a quick glance through the rear-view mirror and can see Yennefer’s surprise on her face.

“My dear child,” she finally says, Jaskier still speechless with glassy eyes as if he had been imagining it for a moment, “if I were to be in a ménage à trois, believe me it wouldn’t be with two men. No, these two are a couple and I’m...” She hesitates, like she is not sure which term to use, and Geralt takes pity on her.

“My ex, but also my best friend, and above all part of my family. Which means she is going to be part of your family too from now on. I hope this is okay?” He can’t help asking, watching Ciri’s reaction in the mirror.

She just shrugs. “It’s fine, I was just curious,” she says, and there’s that. Geralt had nearly forgotten how much he loved children for their ability to roll with the punches. One step down, a bazillion more to go.

*o*o*o*o*

The first two days are an adjustment for all of them, but they’re fine. Ciri looks like a sweet, quiet kid. She goes to school and the three of them insist on going to drop her off, although Jaskier is the only one picking her up as Geralt and Yen need to work. When Yen gets home, she helps Ciri with her homework and then Jaskier makes them play charades or board games. Geralt cooks them dinner, secretly enjoying having a real kitchen for a change, and Jaskier reads (or invents) a story for Ciri to go to sleep. This is all very domestic, and oddly fulfilling.

But on the third day, which is their first weekend together, Ciri reveals herself to not be as easy-going as she appeared to be previously. Because this Saturday, as she is quietly playing alone in her room, she has her first fit. Everything is going fine, Yen is doing the dishes, Jaskier and Geralt are cuddling in front of a movie and suddenly Geralt hears a deafening scream. He runs to Ciri’s room, Yen and Jaskier hot on his heels, to find the little girl crying and throwing objects. Geralt tries to approach her but she just screams louder so he steps back, flabbergasted. This is terrifying.

His first instinct is to turn to Yennefer, because well, she is a woman and she has fits of her own too, so she might understand Ciri better. This might be a bit sexist of him, but the logic stays sound in his mind. But Yen seems as hopeless as him, and Ciri won’t let anyone come near her. That time, nothing they can say or do, be it Yennefer, him or Jaskier, will calm her down. They just spend fifteen minutes watching her scream herself raw before falling asleep from crying too much and calling for her mother and grandmother. This is heart-breaking for all of them.

When Geralt is sure she is asleep, holed up in a corner of her room surrounded by broken toys, he gently scoops her up and puts her in her bed. Wordlessly, they all start gathering everything she threw on the floor and putting it away. Geralt gently lines up every broken thing on the desk, not wanting to risk throwing something away if it has emotional value for the girl. Finally, they all gather in the corridor outside her room, not wanting to leave too far away from her.

“What was that?” Geralt whispers, hoping one of them will have an answer, because he has rarely felt so much in over his head in his life.

“I don’t know, some kind of temper tantrum? But it seemed really extreme,” Yen whispers back, glancing inside the room with worry.

“Or something akin to a panic attack, maybe?” Jaskier says. “In any case, she is clearly having trouble managing her emotions. She is supposed to see a therapist, right?”

“Yes, the first appointment is next week,” Geralt confirms.

“Maybe we could also sign her up for karate or something? It might be good for her to channel her energy and learn a bit more control,” Jaskier muses and Geralt hums. At least if she learns to defend herself now, he won’t have to worry about self-defence when she is older. This can’t hurt.

“Is there anything else we can do?” Yen asks, and Geralt wishes he knew, but none of them do.

“I can try to look it up on the internet, but except waiting for her therapy appointment and try to talk to her about it, I’m not sure,” Jaskier says.

They all stay silent and Geralt stiffens when he hears a noise in the room. He peeks inside quickly, but everything is the same and Ciri just moved in her sleep. He sighs with relief.

“It’s going to be okay, we’ll get through this,” Jaskier tells him when he steps back in the corridor. “I’m going to look it up now.”

“And I’m going to make some tea,” Yen adds, following Jaskier to the living room.

“Erm,” Geralt says, hesitating to follow them, and Yennefer turns around.

“It’s okay, you stay here and look after her, I know how you are when someone you care about is ill or in trouble,” she says with a kind smile and Geralt nods, relieved.

When they are both gone, he leans against the wall and lets himself descend slowly until he is sitting on the floor. He is right next to Ciri’s open door and if he strains a bit, he can hear her breathing. He is not sure how long he stays here, just thinking about everything and listening for signs of the girl waking up, but when her breathing changes and the sheets starts to rustle, he gets up and goes inside the room.

“Hey, Princess,” he greets her, using the nickname Jaskier started using after her obsession with a bedtime story about a warrior princess. “You okay?”

She blinks blearily up at him and sits in the bed, so Geralt sits next to her.

“I’m fine,” she mumbles, and Geralt wishes they were close enough that he could make her sit on his lap and hold her close. Hopefully soon.

“Can you tell me what happened before? You didn’t seem fine,” he asks, trying to be as gentle as possible. She shrugs.

“I dunno.”

Geralt waits for a bit but she doesn’t say anything more, so he continues. “Has it happened before? Or was it the first time?”

She bites her bottom lip, obviously embarrassed. “It happened once before, when they told me grandma and grandpa were dead.”

At that, Geralt can’t help putting his arm around her shoulder, and he is happily surprised to feel her leaning against him.

“Do you know what triggered it this time?” he asks, making soothing motion up and down her arm.

She shrugs again, her tiny shoulder raising against his ribs. Geralt is sure she knows what happened, but if she doesn’t want to talk about it, he won’t pry.

“Well, if you want to talk about it, or anything else, you can always come to me, okay?”

“Okay,” she answers, and Geralt stands up.

“Let’s go have a snack and tell the other you’re awake, I’m sure it will all make us feel better.”

“Can I have ice cream?” she exclaims, jumping from the bed after Geralt, and he realises he will probably never be able to say no to her.

*o*o*o*o*

A few days later, Geralt gets a phone call in the middle of the day from Ciri’s school. She fought with another boy and Geralt has to come and get her. Images of Ciri’s face blue and purple flashes through his mind and he doesn’t think, just flips the sign to Closed on the office door and gets on Roach. He is at the school in ten minutes and he has to stop himself from running to the headteacher’s office.

When he gets there, he is surprised by the strong relief he feels at seeing her fine. She just has a cracked lip and some scratches on her arms, but definitely nothing serious. The other boy on the other hand has a nasty gash behind the head which looks like it just stopped bleeding.

“Ah, M. Rivia, thanks for coming on such short notice,” the headteacher greets him. “We were waiting for you to get the account of the events from the children. Cirilla, will you tell us what happened?” he asks her with a gentle tone.

“I was walking in the playground when suddenly Ben came from nowhere and tripped me. Then when I got up, I really thought he was going to hit me, so I pushed him and he fell on his head. I swear it was an accident!” she says, looking at the teacher with pleading eyes. Geralt, who is standing behind her chair, puts a supportive hand on her shoulder and squeezes.

“You’re a liar!” screams the other boy suddenly. “We were playing football and you’re the one who came to steal our ball! And you pushed me on purpose!”

Geralt looks at the other boy and he can see tear tracks down his cheeks, while his mother is still pressing a cloth to his injury.

“But why would I do that?” Cirilla answers with a sweet and calm voice, “After all, football is for boys.”

And there is something in her voice, something in the way there is a barely-there smirk on her face when she looks at the other boy, that puts Geralt on edge. The boy turns white then bright red, obviously getting ready to scream some more, but the headteacher stops him.

“Stop! Ben, we’ll say your injury is punishment enough, but I better not hear about you bullying anyone in the future,” he warns, looking pointedly at the boy before turning to Ciri and Geralt. “Cirilla, I know things have been difficult at home for you recently, and I hope you know you can come talk to me or any teacher if anyone is giving you trouble, okay?”

“Thank you, M. Mousesack,” she says sweetly, and Geralt can see how the man is smitten by Ciri.

“You can go home now, both of you, and don’t take this as an opportunity to miss on your homework.”

Geralt thanks him and leads Ciri outside. It’s only once he is in front of Roach that he realises he forgot to take a helmet for Ciri. Well, they will have to walk home then.

“Is that really what happened?” Geralt asks her as they start walking, sensing that something was missing in her retelling.

“Why? You don’t believe me?” Ciri challenges him, and Geralt is surprised by the fire in her gaze.

“Of course I believe you, I’m just saying that if there is anything that you didn’t want to say in front of your classmate or teacher, you can say to me.”

“Well, he told me I couldn’t play football with them because I was a girl, so I had to prove him wrong. I stole his ball and scored. He was mad because a girl beat him so he tripped me and I pushed him. Now I hope he understand he’s not better than me just because he is a boy.”

In this moment, Geralt realises how clever and manipulative this child can be. There is a smugness in her about putting this boy in his place that’s a bit scary, but he guesses he couldn’t expect any different from Calanthe’s granddaughter.

“Ciri, this boy was wrong to say that you couldn’t do something because you’re a girl, but you shouldn’t have pushed him.”

“But he started it! I had to defend myself!” she exclaims, and Geralt sighs. This is a tough situation because he knows resorting to violence is not good, but he also wants her to be able to defend herself if needs be.

“You could have gone to the teacher, this M. Mousesack seemed nice.”

Ciri huffs, as if Geralt just said something truly ridiculous.

“I’m not a fucking tattle-tale,” she says, crossing her arms petulantly.

“Language!” Geralt grunts, realising more and more with every passing minute how raising a child will be more complicated than he ever anticipated. He looks at her, this tiny human being with an angelic face and fire in her mind, amazed to see the depth of her personality at such a young age. All the potential she has, all the ways she could turn into a wonderful adult, and it’s now his job to get her there. “I’m glad you weren’t hurt badly,” he says, putting his hand on her head, “I was worried about you.”

“You don’t have to be, I’m fine,” she says with a resolute glint in her eyes, but she still stops walking to quickly hug Geralt, a very strong surge of affection blooming in the man’s stomach at the gesture. He can’t believe how much he loves her after just a few days.

*o*o*o*o*

A month later, he comes into his room after doing the dishes to find Jaskier sprawled on his stomach in the middle of the bed, humming a song while he scribbles into a notebook. Geralt takes a moment to just look his fill, taking in his muscular arms supporting him on the mattress, the roundness of his arse under his pyjama bottoms, the arch of his naked back surprisingly hairless compared to his torso. It’s been more than five years, and it’s always a wonder how much he loves this man more and more with every passing day.

Silently, he starts undressing to get into bed. He used to sleep naked, but it’s a habit he had to give up after a tiny human started crawling in their bed at night when she had a nightmare. Geralt was very surprised the first time and barely slept as he was terrified of crushing her during the night, but it turns out he should have been terrified of her because her knees and heels seem to have a radar for his balls. Maybe it is some sort of natural instinct to prevent Geralt from reproducing and abandoning Ciri for a new child, or something like that. If so, it is highly effective. Jaskier even joked he should buy a jockstrap with a cup, and Geralt is not ashamed to say he thought about it.

“What are you doing?” he asks as he crawls over Jaskier on the bed to lie on him. If there is one person he is not afraid to crush, it’s his weirdo boyfriend who loves feeling his weight on him.

“I’m writing a new song,” he answers while rubbing his face against Geralt’s cheek like an overgrown cat. “It’s a song for Ciri I’ve been thinking about for a while. This pause from touring might be just what I needed to finish the new album, I’ve been having lot of new ideas!” he smiles, and Geralt kisses his shoulder.

“That’s great, but I’m knackered. Do you mind freeing up some space for me on this bed, or should I sleep on you?” he threatens, and Jaskier laughs.

“No thanks, I might need to breath during the night.”

Grinning, Geralt pushes himself up so Jaskier can move and scoot to his side of the bed.

“What is the song going to be about?” he asks as he slips under the cover.

“Well, Ciri mostly, I had this idea pop into my head during her last fit when she lost her welly boots.”

“You mean that time you took her outside to jump into puddles?”

“Hey, don’t laugh, it was fun.” Jaskier says while poking him in the ribs.

“Jaskier, she is 7, not 3.”

“And I’m 29 and I had fun. Who said you couldn’t have fun after a certain age? That’s very sad Geralt!” he exclaims, sneaking an arm around Geralt’s torso to cuddle with him.

“Hm. You’re right,” Geralt mumbles, his eyes closing despite his best efforts. Who knew parenting was so tiring? He is exhausted all the time. He wishes he could stay awake a bit more, it’s been a while since Jaskier and him had time for more than a rushed handjob.

“Goodnight, love,” Jaskier says and Geralt can hear the smile in his voice. His lover places a sweet kiss on his lips and he wants to wish him goodnight too, but sleep is too strong and he goes under immediately.

*o*o*o*o*

Ciri has been with them for four months when Jaskier turns 30. Although Geralt didn’t have time to organise a surprise party as he first wanted to, they still invited all of their friends for an afternoon in the house. Triss and Zoltan are the first here, followed by all of Jaskier’s bandmates and their significant other, but the ones Geralt is really waiting for are Vesemir and his two brothers from the orphanage, Eskel and Lambert. They all live far away and Geralt hasn’t seen any of them for months. He can’t wait to introduce Ciri to them.

“Now remember,” he tells her for the third time today. “Eskel has been bitten by a dog when he was little so he has a big scar on his face, but it is rude to stare or comment about it, okay?”

“I know,” she grumbles. “You keep telling me, as you kept telling me about Zoltan. I wasn’t rude to him and I won’t be rude to your brother, geez.”

He doesn’t have time to answer because the sound of Vesemir’s bike arriving drowns out any sound he could have uttered. He doesn’t know why he is so nervous, he knows Vesemir will love Ciri, everyone does, but he feels restless as his father figure is parking his motorbike and removing his helmet. But then he sees his face and he has to go hug him, clapping him on the back energetically as a way of showing him how much he missed him.

“Geralt, it’s good to see you,” the man says when he steps back, “and you must be Ciri!” he adds while turning toward the child next to Geralt. “I’m Vesemir, I’ve heard a lot about you, young lady.”

“Geralt talks about me?” she asks while raising an eyebrow, a habit she picked up from Yennefer recently.

“Kid, Geralt doesn’t talk a lot, but it doesn’t mean he thinks any less. No, I was talking about Jaskier, he can’t shut up about you.”

“Oh, I know, he’s obsessed with me, it’s embarrassing,” she deadpans, and Geralt has to admit she picked up the dry humour from him. Vesemir looks at her for a second, obviously not expecting this answer, before a booming laugh is filling the garden, making everyone in the vicinity jump.

“You’re alright kid, I like you,” he grins, and Geralt releases a breath he didn’t realise he had been holding.

After that, Geralt can finally enjoy the party. Lambert and Eskel are late, as usual, but they brought enough alcohol to ensure every guest could end up rolling under the table if they wish. Geralt hopes they will refrain, especially as he is the one who will have to clean up after them. But it’s good, being surrounded by loved ones. Everyone is mingling and doting on Ciri, who doesn’t seem bothered at all to be the only child and is obviously basking in the attention. Geralt is nursing a beer in the kitchen, catching up with Zoltan, when he hears a loud sound from the living room.

“Hey guys,” Jaskier’s voice resonates from an amp, echoing through the room as Geralt joins everyone to see what’s happening. All the guests are gathering, drawn by Jaskier’s voice, and Geralt realises The Awesome Demons are all set up with their instruments. This is unexpected. “I know this is my birthday,” Jaskier continues when everyone is there, “but I actually have a present for someone here.”

Everyone is looking at each other, although Geralt can sense more than a few gazes coming his way. People obviously expect it to be a new song for him, but he actually knows better and he sneaks an arm around Ciri’s shoulder when he realises she is standing right next to him.

“Ciri,” Jaskier continues, looking at her with a huge smile, “I know the events leading you into my life were pretty terrible, but you are the best present I could have hoped for. I can’t wait to see you grow up and be there every step of the way, and I thought the best way to express it was with a song.”

Eskel cheers, making everybody laugh, and Jaskier starts playing the guitar. Geralt can feel Ciri pressing against him and he really hopes she will like it. He hasn’t heard it yet, but he’s answered a few of Jaskier’s questions about the lyrics, and he has no doubt it will be very emotional. In any case, Jaskier is putting his heart out there and the yearning in the first few notes makes it clear immediately.

Like every time Geralt sees Jaskier singing with all his heart, it is an experience. He feels shivers running down his back and a sea of feelings is invading him. When he hears this song, Geralt feels like he could have written it himself because it encompasses so well what he is feeling for Ciri. The love, the fear, the protectiveness. But he thinks she will feel understood too. Her fear of abandonment, the heartbreak of losing her family, her uncontrollable fits, it’s all there. This is so raw, so personal, but still not revealing enough for anyone who doesn’t know them to understand fully the meaning of each word. But judging by the way her fist is tightly gripping his shirt, he thinks she understands. Right now, Jaskier is telling her he will love her forever, whatever happens, whatever she does, whoever she becomes, and Geralt feels it in his bones. This is such a beautiful song.

When the song is over, everybody claps and Geralt comes to the forefront with Ciri. Jaskier squats down in front of the girl with a big smile.

“Hey Princess, what did you think?”

“I loved it,” she says, watching Jaskier intensively, “and I love _you_!” she adds, throwing her arms around his neck in a hug. Geralt swears his heart misses a beat, it’s so huge to hear her say that about one of them, and Jaskier must be aware of it too because a tear is running down his cheek as he hugs Ciri back.

“Love you too,” he mumbles in her hair, raising a watery smile toward Geralt. Then Vesemir is calling Ciri’s name and she is gone like the wind. At this pace, she will tell Vesemir she loves him before Geralt or Yen, she is so enamoured with him.

“Best birthday ever,” Jaskier says to Geralt when he stands back up, wiping down his tears with his hand.

“Wait until you see my present,” Geralt smiles, dragging his boyfriend close to him and kissing his cheek.

“You say that because you are jealous,” Jaskier teases.

“I’m not jealous, I’ve had my own song too, and I know you have plenty of love for her and me.”

“And Yennefer,” Jaskier adds, glancing at the woman talking with Triss, “but never tell her I said that!” he says, looking back at Geralt with squinty eyes.

“My lips are sealed, but especially since she doesn’t need her ego to become even bigger.”

Jaskier snorts and looks toward Ciri, who is talking excitedly to Vesemir and Eskel. “Seriously though, you know she loves you too, right? And Yen. She just didn’t have the occasion to say it yet.”

“I know,” Geralt answers, squeezing briefly Jaskier against him in thanks while he looks at Ciri too. “Your song was really beautiful, by the way.”

“Thank you. I was really nervous, it feels good to finally have it out there,” he says, leaning his head on Geralt’s shoulder. “Now I can finally drink and get plastered!” he grins, slapping Geralt’s arse before leaping toward the kitchen where all the booze is. Geralt just laughs, his heart bursting with the feeling of love surrounding him, knowing that whatever happens now, they are a family and they will stick together, for better and for worse.

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank everyone who left kudos and comments on the first part, you gave me enough motivation to finish this new chapter. As the previous part was inspired by the song Fair from The Amazing Devil, this part is all about [Welly Boots](https://theamazingdevil.bandcamp.com/track/welly-boots), which is obviously what Jaskier is singing for Ciri at the end. Go listen to it if you haven't already, I promise it's worth it!
> 
> I might start a third part which would just be slices of their life together, but I won't promise anything, we'll see how it goes.
> 
> Thanks again for reading, I hope you had fun and don't hesitate to comment or leave kudos, it always makes my day!


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